


Not My Circus Not My Monkey

by AngelOfBooze



Series: Autistic!Simon Monroe [5]
Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Autistic Simon Monroe, Autistic!Simon Monroe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:59:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfBooze/pseuds/AngelOfBooze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon is confused by a figure of speech and fluff ensues?? I honestly have no idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not My Circus Not My Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea where I was going with this. It was meant to be a ‘Simon is confused by this new phrase’ type of fic but ended up becoming... whatever this is? I don’t really like the beginning, or the middle, or the end. Oh well, I hope you enjoy this, whatever it is!

Simon was sitting watching a program about the different types of cars they used in racing when it happened. Jem was striding towards the front door when Kieren called after her to clean up the table, which had been left cluttered from breakfast that morning. Jem shouted back something about being late, for what, Simon honestly didn’t know. Jem didn’t seem to have all that many friends apart from Gary, and everyone knew how that had turned out. Simon couldn’t really make out the words Jem has called over her shoulder, as his ears were currently covered with his hands because of the loud music blaring out of Jems room. Kieren certainly caught what Jem had said. “What do you mean ‘not my circus not my monkey’?” he called back good-naturedly. “Simon and I don’t eat.” The door was shut loudly, signalling that Jem was done with this conversation. Kieren sighed before trumping up the stairs to turn off Jems’ ipod, much to Simons’ relief.

Simon leaned his elbows on his knees and rolled the words over in his head, deconstructing them, stringing them together in new ways. He couldn’t figure out what Jem meant by ‘not my circus not my monkey’. His eye brows knitted together in concentration. Simon stayed seated in the lounge as Kieren tromped down the stairs, walking briskly in the direction of the front door before spinning back around, obviously figuring that Jem was far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to chew her out about the music and Simons’ sensitive hearing until later that evening. Instead, Kieren busied himself at the table. The table wear clattered and clanked as Kieren began carting it off to the kitchen to be, Simon supposed, washed in the sink, as he had never heard the rumble of the dishwasher. For that, he was thankful.

Simons’ fingers danced through the air, his eyes tracking their movement with care. “Not my circus” a picture of a carnival tent “…Not my monkey.” A chimpanzee. He mumbled his thoughts out loud, some words were lumpy, like oatmeal and seeped out of his mouth. Others were like a stream, flowing smoothly, uninterrupted before another oatmeal word appeared.

“Kier..?” Simon called out quietly, his mind all but pre-occupied with the phrase. Kierens’ head popped out of the kitchen. “Yeah” He asked, absentmindedly drying a plate.

“What did she mean?” Simon asked, he saw the offending sentence running past his eyes, taunting him. Kierens’ lips turned down into a mild frown. “What did who mean?” he asked, walking slowly over to Simon, taking into account his posture and tone of voice.

Simon sighed. “Your sister. What did she mean by ‘not my circus not my monkey?” He asked, his mouth corners turned down in a frown. Kierens’ eyes lit up with understanding. “I-uh, I don’t really know. But I think she meant that the dishes weren’t her problem” Kieren said, walking slowly back into the kitchen to deposit the now dry plate back to the cupboard.

Simon turned this new information over in his head. His brow creased again. “But, they were her problem” he said clearly as he turned his head in the direction of the kitchen. Kierens’ head popped back out of the kitchen. “She was being rude, Simon.” Kieren said. “She was being rude by making us…” Kieren paused for a second, “me…do the dishes, even though they were her problem”

 _Oh_. Simon straightened his back and turned around in his chair just enough to face Kieren.

Did Kieren want Simon to help with the dishes? Was he just correcting himself? Simon couldn’t tell. This was always hard. Simon didn’t know how to respond. His eyes flicked from Kieren to the entrance of the kitchen. “Did you…uh…?” Simon asked. His fingers drummed on his knee. Kieren shrugged loosely. “If you want.” He said, moving languidly back towards the kitchen. Simon pushed himself off of the couch and followed Kieren into the small kitchen.

Simon gritted his teeth as he entered the kitchen. There was going to be a lot of noise. The sound of plates clanking, cutlery grating against cutlery. The splash of the sudsy water. Simon didn’t think he was going to like this. Why had he come to help again? That’s right, Kieren and his infuriating puppy eyes that could melt Simons’ resolve in a matter of seconds.

Simon wrinkled his nose at the acidic smell of cleaning products that had hit him when he entered. Sue had evidently been cleaning. Keiren handed him a towel. “You’re drying the dishes” he said matter of factly before turning back towards the sink. Kieren began scrubbing away at some grime on a plate. Simon looked towards the small pile of plates and utensils. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over the fabric of the dish towel. It was bumpy and was softer in some places than others. He liked it. Simon picked up the plates that were laying in the drainer. He and Kieren fell into a steady pattern of scrub, rince, hand to Simon to dry and repeat. “I don’t see how three people can make this much mess” Simon voiced out loud, as Kieren passed him another plate and shrugged nonchalantly, “I honestly don’t know either.”

It looked peaceful, hell, it even felt peaceful when the knives weren’t clanking together and grating against Simons’ resolve. The smooth slosh of Kierens’ hands through the otherwise stagnant water helped sooth Simons’ mind. Simon began to feel his nerves melting away. He heard Kieren laugh under his breath. Simon squinted. “What?” He asked, his hand stopped rubbing circles with the dish towel onto the plate that was currently clasped between his fingers. Kieren looked at him. “Were you just humming ‘London Bridge’?” He asked. Simon shrugged.

“Amy asked the same thing” He flat lined, falling back on old habits of not showing emotion when something like this came up. If he couldn’t show the right emotion, what was the point of showing any at all. Kieren clapped him on the back, knowing how much Simon hated to be touched lightly. Kieren handed Simon another plate before fishing around in the grey water. It had lost the last of the bubbles a little while ago. “You might want to cover your ears.” Kieren suggested as Simon finished the last of the plates. Simon did as Kieren had recommended. As soon as Kieren pulled the plug, the water began rushing down the drain with a screech. Although Simon couldn’t stand the sound the drain made, the movement of the water fascinated him, captivating his attention.

By the time the last of the water had drained away, Kieren had put all of the plates and utensils back in their rightful places in the kitchen. Kieren walked up beside Simon, putting his hand firmly on his boyfriends shoulder. “Want to go finish that movie?” He asked, steering Simon away from the now empty sink. Simon nodded and let himself be taken back out to the entertainment room. They sat down on the couch, Kieren curled into Simons’ side as he talked animatedly about the types of cars being used in the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this, even if it was horrible!  
> I really want to write more Jem, I just have no idea how.  
> Your comments and kudos are really appreciated and give me motivation to continue this series!


End file.
